Man and Monster
by Curbstompd
Summary: Dark!Percy, AU: When one fights monsters, one must take care not to become one himself. Perseus Jackson, member of the Parliament of the Republic of Olympus, made that mistake. The consequences for him, and everyone he holds dear, will be dire. Reviews are appreciated.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Republic of Olympus Library of Records_

_Videotape # 435_

_Recorded 12 September 1985_

click

_Static appears on the screen of the small video player for a few seconds, before a grainy video crackles to life. The camera is pointed at the face of a middle-aged woman. The picture quality is terrible (having been shot in the eighties), but it is possible to make out blond hair streaked with gray and a pair of silver eyes staring sagely at the screen._

_The woman is Senator Annabeth Chase, one of the famed "Circle of Seven" who led the 1969 revolution against the oppressive Spartanist dictatorship that led the Republic of Olympus from 1957 to 1970. Senator Chase takes off a pair of steel-rimmed bifocals with badly shaking fingers._

ANNABETH CHASE: Goddamn Parkinson's disease...

_She leans back in her chair and sighs, steepling her fingers. She takes a deep breath._

AC: I have decided to record this video as means of an explanation. An explanation, I suppose, for some of the comments I passed in public about a possible re-examination of the mythos following our own national nightmare.

_Chase chuckles slightly._

AC: As those of you watching will likely know, that was _exactly_ the wrong thing to say when trying to win re-election to my Senatorial position. I still stand by what I said; however, I must make it clear that my intentions were completely misunderstood by the population at large.

_She leans forwards, and the angry fire in her gray eyes stands out against their dull color. _

AC: The actions perpetrated by a certain... individual... whose name anyone from Olympus would know were heinous, unforgivable, and, for lack of a better term, _evil._ But...

_Senator Chase leans back in her chair contemplatively. Her tone grows sharper, more urgent._

AC: But we have to keep in mind that the man whose name is so hated, so vilified, in our country was not always the way he was. I knew him, I worked with him, I was _friends_ with him all through the 1950s. We all need to remember that he worked to overthrow Saturn Kronos's government in 1957, and that he was one of the _original_ Circle of Seven.

Am I asking that we forgive him for the fear and oppression he wreaked on us in the name of order and peace? No. I am asking that we look at his crimes from a different light, one that shows him not as an inhuman monster, but as a human being with good intentions who, some_where_, some_how_, some_time_, was twisted and warped into the man we know today as High Chancellor Perseus Jackson.

_Chase sighs._

AC: I suppose it's time to start yammering. I'm not going to be around a lot longer, so I've got to get this out. Maybe the only one who knew him as well as I do was Minister Underwood or President di Angelo, but neither have, and will ever, talk about Percy. So I suppose it's up to me. To start at the beginning of Jackson's story, we'll need to look back a very long way, all the way back to the 1950s.

Those were... troubled times. We were all ruled by a terrible dictatorship, whose primary weapon was fear and manipulation. Our "glorious" head of state, President-For-Life Saturn Kronos, didn't just exercise his control with an iron fist, he kicked dissent in the ribs with lead boots. This was the kind of atmosphere we all grew up in, one of fear and oppression. At the time, Percy Jackson was a young, up-and-coming politician in the rubber-stamp "parliament." He was one of the few actually trying to make a difference, but it could not have ended worse for him...

**Hello, peeps! I decided to put this new multichapter story up, despite the fact that the original version was a History assignment. We had to write a story in which an unlikely character becomes dictator of a country, and guess who I wrote about?**

**Truth be told, this might also be an exercise for me; to see how well I can twist and warp a character who is, in general, a good person, to be a villain. if you don't lie that idea, don't read further, but if you do decide to read on, enjoy!**

**Thanks, **

**C**


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Olympus City, Olympian State

State Parliament

April 9, 1956

Percy Jackson straightened his tie for the hundredth time in the past hour. The damned piece of cloth had been strangling him since he'd put it on that morning, and as his fellow MPs droned on and on about the most mundane and useless topics, it seemed to be constricting.

He scoffed quietly as the latest Parliament lackey, obviously secure in the Dear Leader's pocket, mounted the dais and began an overly floral and Kronos-filled speech. "By our Dear Leader's grace, we have, through the measures taken in my new bill, successfully increased industrial production in all sectors by 2 percent!"

There was a smattering of polite applause, mostly from Kronos's supporters. Percy joined in, just to keep up appearances. Parliament really did nothing these days, aside from prop up the tyrannical policies of the President. There were even soldiers posted at strategic intervals around the room, for the "protection" of the legislators. Everyone in the room knew the true purpose of the soldiers: intimidation. But nobody said a thing, and nobody ever _had_ voiced any word of protest or anger since the rise of Kronos and the suppression of an entire nation.

Percy leaned back in his seat, tuning out the continued droning of the Parliament man easily. With sweaty hands, he pulled out a piece of paper that he hoped could change things for he better: a copy of his speech. He had decided the night before, while watching the obviously-censored and biased Olympus News Network, that something had to change.

"Now, I give the dais to Mr Perseus Jackson. Mr. Jackson has requested the floor to speak briefly about the..." the man checked his notes... "The situation concerning certain resistance groups undermining our government and President Kronos."

Percy sent his eyes skimming across his notes one more time, before nervously standing and ascending the steps of the dais. He looked upwards for a second; above the dais, hanging over anyone who would be speaking, was a massive picture of the President himself. The likeness was flanked by a pair of Olympian flags, emblazoned with the Titan Party's symbol: a stylized scythe. Percy glared at the image with loathing before stepping up to the podium and putting on his famous smile. (His grin had gotten him into trouble during his navy days, with his superior immediately labeling him a "troublemaker," but he had found that it did the opposite in the political jungle.)

"Ladies and gents," he began, "Thank you for your attention. I am standing before you today because of my own design; I have requested this time to speak to my esteemed colleagues in Parliament because the largest problem our great nation faces, the most glaring, obvious issue, is one that can be rectified right here, in the very chambers we now occupy."

Percy raised his voice. He may not have been the best orator, or the most eloquent, but he was a good leader and he knew how to inspire a crowd. "The violence," he continued, "that has been perpetrated throughout our glorious country can be quelled without the use of the gun or the sword." He paused. "The heavy-handed use of force and the suppression of the media that we, as a country, partake in is undoubtedly the root cause."

There was a stunned silence. Percy definitely had everyone's attention now; MPs and guards alike stared at him with eyes and mouths wide in shock. The twenty-two words that he had spoken into the microphone had had the effect of lighting off a firecracker in the crowded Parliament chambers. Even the giant portrait of Kronos seemed to be glaring at him.

He had wanted their attention, but only now was he realizing the obvious implications of speaking out against the actions of what basically amounted to a fascist state. A bead of sweat lazily traveled down the back of his neck, and he almost faltered.

_No._ Percy couldn't stop, this was his only chance to truly say what many other members of Parliament had always wanted to say. So he kept speaking; he talked about the intimidation, corruption, and censorship that the government and the Titan Party knowingly partook in. He talked about the isolation that Olympus had seen by its neighbors and the starvation of the poor and innocent for the enrichment of Kronos and his Party lackeys. He talked for minutes on end, and as he did, the guards in the crowd slowly edged towards the stage. He saw several rapidly speaking into their lapel microphones, and he decided that he was going to wrap up.

"In conclusion," Percy said hurriedly, "I ask that you consider my words, and move to change the country for the better. Thank you." There was no applause for him, only a stunned and silent room. He hurried off the stage before the guards could reach the front, and rushed for his seat. For the next hour and a half, he sweated, expecting Kronos's men to grab him out of his chair and drag him away. This was wrong, this was all wrong...

His fellow MPs refused to look at him or sit next to him. That was understandable; he had stupidly hurled himself headfirst into a crosshair, and nobody wanted to be collateral damage. Percy breathed in and out. Okay. He didn't mind. He didn't wish what was coming for him on anyone.

As soon as the Prime Minister, Helios Hyperion, mounted the dais and banged his gavel to signal the end of the Parliament session, Percy shot out of his chair like a rocket. Without running, he headed straight for the door, quickly becoming lost in the sea of Parliament members exiting the building. He made a left in the hallway and made a beeline for the bathroom, where he shoved open the swinging door and stumbled over to the sink.

It was amazing, the fear that Kronos's government created. He'd never heard a word, never seen any of the Titan Party's secret policemen, but he felt like his death warrant was, at that exact moment, being signed by some paper-pusher in a mundane, gray office of the Presidential Palace.

Percy opened the cold tap full blast and splashed some of the frigid water onto his sweaty face. Then he buried his head in his hands in despair.

There was a creak in the corner as the bathroom door swung open, sending a pulse of adrenaline through Percy's brain. He jumped, nearly smacking his head on the mirror, before realizing who was at the door.

"Oh, thank god, it's you." Percy breathed a sigh of relief.

Senator Grover Underwood stood in the doorway, looking slightly taken aback. "Uh..." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Are... Are you okay, Percy?"

Percy nodded, taking deep breaths to settle his jumping heartbeat. He turned back to the mirror and ran a hand through his mop of dark hair. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, G-man." He chuckled, a slightly hysterical sound that made the hairs on Grover's neck stand up.

Grover knew that he definitely wasn't "fine," but he shrugged and walked into a bathroom stall to do his business, so to speak. Percy nodded and grinned worriedly as he passed before straightening and dusting off his blazer. Then he pushed open the door, and once again, he was off. His apartment wasn't too far from the Parliament building; maybe he could make a few calls, see if everything was fine. He had friends in the Olympic officer corps with connections to the Party's inner circle, maybe Colonel Castellan would be able to get him out of this tight spot. Yes, that was what he'd do.

Grover limped out of the bathroom (he had a condition that had severely weakened the tendons in his legs, and he needed a brace on the left one) as his friend rounded a corner and disappeared from view. "What's got into him?" he chuckled. He wondered if his friend had won the Lottery or something. Grover shrugged, he'd ask him the next day.

Grover had no idea how wrong he would be.


End file.
